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Worlds Within
Worlds Within
Worlds Within
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Worlds Within

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While waiting in the principal’s office, Toby finds a book that lets him travel to another world where he makes new friends. At home he still has to deal with bullies at school, a mysterious librarian, and more trips to the principal. Then he discovers he’s not the only one who knows about the book. His new friends need his help. Can they keep the book from falling into the wrong hands?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherSteven Larson
Release dateMay 2, 2009
ISBN9781452301815
Worlds Within
Author

Steven Larson

Welcome to our middle-grade fantasy stories. Our writing started with the picture of a gnome house. The tale grew into The World Beyond the Door. Other books followed. Here you will find those adventures. Travel across time, visit magical worlds, and step into cyber realms. Join the adventure. Let the story unfold.

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    Book preview

    Worlds Within - Steven Larson

    WORLDS WITHIN

    Copyright 2006 by Steven & Margaret Larson

    Smashwords Edition

    Published by Margaret Larson at Smashwords

    This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold. Thank you for respecting the work of the authors.

    Other books available by these authors

    CHILDREN’S FANTASY BOOKS

    Murky Manor

    Cave of Discovery

    The World Beyond the Door

    A COLLECTION OF WRITINGS

    Thoughts on the Wind

    Print versions available at: www.lulu.com/larsonworlds

    Visit us at our web site www.home.earthlink.net/~larsonworlds

    CONTENTS

    1 The Edge of Discovery

    2 Nitika

    3 Book Possession

    4 Catch a Falling Star

    5 St. Elmo

    6 Dinosaur Dreams

    7 Encountering the Hulk

    8 Alarming Events

    9 Ghouls and Specters

    10 Score! Score! Scorpions

    11 Ressa

    12 Lost Kingdom

    13 Honored

    Epilogue

    Notes

    CHAPTER 1 - THE EDGE OF DISCOVERY

    The bell rang, and all the students headed to the cafeteria in a vast, jumbled mass. Being shorter than many of the other kids, Toby Traverse disappeared quickly in the crowd. They swarmed into the lunchroom, and Toby was squeezed into line. Numbed by the chaos around him, he opened the book he was carrying and tried to escape into the story. Bumped and jostled he gave up and reluctantly tucked the book into his backpack. The classic two-dimensional story of Flatland would have to wait until he was out of this three-dimensional nightmare.

    Across the room he spotted the hulking figure of Buz and his sinister shadow Arnie, leaning against the wall. Magnus soon joined them. Even from across the room his face had a menacing leer. Buz, Arnie and Magnus - he just thought of them as BAM.

    Turning away, Toby glanced at the back of the line and recognized Ressa by her short dark hair. She was entertaining a group of laughing girls who surrounded her like adoring fans. As she turned to face his way, her hair swirled around her face in loose curls. He sighed. It must be nice to be popular.

    He read the menu for Monday – spaghetti. As he picked up a tray he tried not to think about the boys across the room. Maybe they wouldn’t notice him this time.

    The plump elderly woman behind the counter dished up a glob of spaghetti and slid it towards him. He placed it on his tray and added a salad. It wasn’t salad as he’d come to know it since staying with his grandmother. Her salads were always an exotic mixture. She added bean sprouts, seaweed, goat cheeses, strange mushrooms, and other vegetation that most people would only eat on a survivor show. After the first month he had stopped asking about the strange plants that inhabited his bowl from places he couldn’t pronounce and couldn’t find on a map.

    Reaching for a bowl of pudding, he was jerked back to the present as a hand darted past him. I believe this one is mine, said Magnus.

    Filling my tray for me Tobias? said the oily voice of Buz. Looking up, Toby was dismayed to see the three of them. The older boys from 7th grade towered above him.

    Arnie picked up the salad. I don’t much like salad Tobias, why don’t you just keep it? He thrust the bowl at Toby spilling lettuce down the front of his shirt.

    Startled, Toby cried out, Hey! and stepped back, pulling on the tray. But Buz was still holding the other end.

    Where you going with my food, kid? Buz sneered. He jerked on the tray. The sudden movement knocked the bowl out of Magnus’s hand and pudding splattered everywhere. The empty bowl spun noisily on the floor. Spaghetti flew across the room in a solid lump with the sauce separating like the saucer section of the Starship Enterprise. It landed in two separate spots on the floor and slid, leaving a greasy trail behind. The plate skidded across a nearby table spilling drinks. Chairs toppled backwards as kids jumped up in alarm.

    There were shouts from the cafeteria staff. Kids were screaming. The sound of the salad bowl dropping from Toby’s shirt to the floor was barely heard.

    He brushed the lettuce off his shirt. As he bent down to pick up the bowl, the noise faded. The room became deathly quiet. He felt a chill down his spine as he stood up. Closing his eyes, he wished desperately that he could turn invisible. He stiffened as he felt the iron grip of fingers pinching his shoulder. A cold voice said, ‘What’s going on here?"

    Opening his eyes he noticed that BAM was nowhere to be seen. Somehow they had managed to pull off the invisibility trick. They had left him in the middle of this wreckage with his life in havoc. The fingers, of course, belonged to the Principal, Mr. Carson.

    In a commanding voice he ordered several of the boys to clean up the mess. Everyone else immediately took their seats. All that could be heard was the soft sound of forks scraping across plates as everyone pretended to eat. No one wanted to be singled out by Kick Carson. It was a nickname that he had earned as a star player on his college football team. Although he no longer kicked footballs, the students at Sierra Middle School thought it still fit his style.

    Come with me young man. Toby winced as the fingers bit deeper into his shoulder. Carson turned him around and maneuvered him down the hall. They walked past a table full of girls, and Toby saw Ressa staring wide eyed at him. His face flushed as he realized she had finally noticed him. Too bad she probably would never have anything to do with him now. At the doorway, he met the sympathetic gaze of a tall lanky kid. Jason was a transfer from out of state, and one of his few friends at this new school. Jason smiled and Toby tried to smile back.

    He had managed to make it though Christmas before having this encounter, but the New Year wasn’t starting out so well. Being at a new school was more difficult than he had thought it would be.

    They passed a glass case filled with trophies won by the school’s Scorpion Soccer team. It was no use trying to explain about Buz and the others. Carson thought all athletes were ideal students, and Buz and the others were star athletes. They entered the office, and Carson pushed him into a faded green chair.

    I’m disappointed in you Toby. If you’d show half that much energy in your gym class you’d go a lot farther. You should channel those destructive impulses into sports. Learn some teamwork and you could get along better with others instead of causing this kind of scene.

    There was a knock on the door, but Carson’s stare never wavered. The overhead light glinted on the closely cropped silver hair at his temples. Toby waited, not knowing what to say. There was another knock, and he began to squirm under the scrutiny. At the third knock, Carson’s secretary, Mrs. Hightower, looked in and said, Sir?

    Carson finally said, Don’t leave that chair. Sit there and think about it till I get back.

    He left the room. There were muffled voices, and then Toby could hear footsteps echoing down the long, tiled hall. Her chair squeaked softly as Mrs. Hightower sat down. Then there was only the steady clicking of the computer keys.

    Toby leaned back in the chair. The books in his pack pressed into his shoulder blades. He brushed the damp hair off his forehead. Here he was in Kick Carson’s office while those jocks were loose. Life was so unfair. If he had to sit here in this office, why couldn’t it at least have been during his hated gym class instead of having to miss lunch?

    He pulled Flatland out of his backpack and tried to read. It was a classic science fiction book about a two-dimensional world. But the book required too much concentration. He put it back in his pack.

    I shouldn’t even be in this position, he thought. If my parents hadn’t gotten that promotion, the University would not have sent them to Antarctica for a year. They were there now studying penguins with other scientists, while he was stuck here living with Janie, his grandmother. He felt as out of place here as a penguin. The only claim to fame that this small town in the southwestern desert had going for it was the DNA institute. The Family Ancestry Studies and Testing Institute, known as FAST, was the nationally acclaimed lab where his grandmother worked.

    Then again, things were not too bad. Living with Janie was an adventure in itself. She certainly kept things from being boring. He sat up and checked out the office.

    The carpet at his feet was worn from years of kids sitting where he was now. On Carson’s desk was a paperweight. It was a scorpion sealed in Lucite. Fascinated, Toby was drawn out of the chair towards the desk. He leaned closer to see all the details of the imprisoned creature. Its eyes stared back at him menacingly.

    He reached out to pick it up. The sudden ringing of the phone shattered the silence making him jump and jerk his hand back. Mrs. Hightower answered it from her office. The tension eased from his back as he slowly relaxed and looked around the room.

    He was surprised to see a bookcase. Unable to resist the attraction of books, he glanced quickly at the closed door. Moving around the desk he began to read the titles. Baseball Greats, Football Heroes, Wrestling Superstars, How To Be A Marathon Winner. Figures, he thought. On another shelf were assorted autobiographies of sports

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